In the third year of my marriage to Hector Ballard, I was hit by a car while riding my bike, yet I endured the pain and didn't call him.

Simply because he was a Major General with a sensitive status, unable to take personal calls during duty hours.

The woman who hit me sobbed into her phone while grabbing hold of me.

"My boyfriend is on his way. Please, just wait. We'll make this right, I promise."

But when that military SUV with the license plate 7777 pulled up behind her, my whole body went rigid.

Hector stepped out of the vehicle, draped his jacket over the woman, and spoke with concern. "I'm late. Are you hurt?"

That's when it hit me.

It wasn't that Hector couldn't answer calls at work.

It was just that the number listed under his emergency contacts belonged to his first love.

He frowned, his gaze dropping to my bleeding knee. He stared for a long time.

"Do you two know each other?" Hector's first love asked, hesitation in her voice.

He lowered his eyes, but before he could speak, I answered for him. "No, we don't."

After all, three years ago, the very first clause in the marriage contract he gave me demanded complete secrecy.

Now, our three-year contractual marriage was about to expire.

My time here was almost up.

***

I always knew Hector had a first love. I just never imagined she would be the woman who hit me.

When Hector arrived, I froze for a second, a foolish part of me thinking he had come for me.

But the woman in front of me had already scrambled to her feet, running over to throw herself, sobbing, into his arms.

"Hector, what do I do? I hit someone."

The man took off his military jacket and wrapped it around her, his voice calm as ever. "I'll handle it."

I slowly withdrew my gaze, looking down at the wound on my knee.

It was only then that I belatedly understood why Hector hadn't been coming home much lately.

His first love, Cecilia Shepherd, had returned to the country.

Cecilia pulled away from his embrace, looking back at me with a happy smile. "My boyfriend is here now. Whatever compensation you want, just tell his subordinate."

"I'm really sorry for delaying you and causing you injury. Don't be shy about making requests! My boyfriend is very capable, he can arrange anything!"

I softly replied, "Thank you," but Hector's subordinate looked awkward.

He was one of the few people who knew about my secret marriage to Hector.

He stammered, "Mrs... uh, no, Miss, why is your wound still bleeding? It's been half an hour since the accident. Do you have a blood clotting disorder?"

"Just a mild one," I replied with a nod.

Hector's head snapped toward me, his voice dropping. "A clotting disorder?"

Cecilia asked in confusion. "What's wrong?"

But he seemed not to hear her, his gaze locked on my steadily bleeding knee, a deep furrow forming between his brows.

Cecilia finally sensed something was off, looking hesitantly between me and Hector.

"Do you know each other?"

He lowered his eyes, but before he could form a word, I cut in. "We don't."

My answer, as expected, seemed to satisfy him.

He promptly took Cecilia's hand.

As they turned to leave, he tossed a casual order over his shoulder to his subordinate. "Take her to the hospital."

As their figures faded into the distance, I suppressed the faint bitterness in my heart.

With exactly two months left until my contractual marriage to Hector Ballard was set to expire, it was time to start preparing my exit.

The contract marriage with Hector was very simple.

I needed tuition for graduate school. Through the introduction of a mysterious online contact, I somehow ended up becoming Hector's wife.

There was no wedding ceremony on the day we married. No celebration. Just a contract.

He needed a marriage of convenience to fend off family pressure.

The term was three years. We had to keep the relationship secret, and I only needed to accompany him to the Ballard Manor occasionally to appease the elders. No marital duties were expected. No responsibility toward each other.

I was even free to date, as long as it didn't cause a scandal in front of his family.

My salary was 5,000 dollars a month.

Upon the contract's expiration, I would receive a hush money payment of 5 million dollars.

At that time, Cecilia had already gone abroad, and I had no idea she even existed. So, I had absolutely no reason to refuse this job.

After we married, Hector kept me by his side and taught me many things.

Like a real Mrs. Ballard, I accompanied him to banquets, selected his formal wear, and dealt with difficult politicians.

Once, a department head got too handsy with me.

Hector, who never showed a flicker of emotion, reacted instantly. His foot connected hard with the man's kneecap.

Then, he picked up a wine bottle, pressed the cool glass into my palm, and wrapped his arms around me from behind.

His voice was a low murmur, his signature woody scent enveloping me. "Do you know what lesson I'm teaching you tonight?"

I forced myself to sound calm. "You're teaching me to fight back when necessary... that knowing when to advance and when to retreat is how you seize control..."

But he tightened his grip on my hand, lifting it high, and cut me off. "Good student, this isn't a logic puzzle. Don't overthink it."

"It's just a fight."

With a sickening thud, the bottle connected with the man's head. My palm stung from the impact.

Hector pulled out a pocket square and wiped the sweat from my palm. "Don't forget this in the future. I am your leverage."

"Don't let anyone bully you again."

I hurriedly pulled my hand back, mumbled a perfunctory "I know," and ran off.

Any longer, and the adoration in my eyes would have given me away.

Maybe it was because he was my first love. Or maybe it was because of the occasional, intoxicating indulgence he showed me.

After we married, I moved into the villa he bought. My greatest daily anticipation became waiting for him to come home from work.

We'd eat together, chat, and sometimes he would even watch movies or go for walks with me.

Until one day, after being forced to drink too much at a celebration dinner, he was brought home by a female subordinate. His arm was draped over her shoulder, their bodies uncomfortably close.

"Mrs. Ballard, please step aside. I need to help General Ballard inside."

The subordinate's tone carried a hint of disdain.

I didn't move. Instead, I reached out my hand toward her. "I'll take care of my husband."

Just as I was about to close the door, the secretary laughed. "A Major General's wife should have some grace.

"Being this jealous, yet powerless to eliminate every other woman... you'll only end up tormenting yourself."

I hadn't expected Hector to be lucid enough to hear the exchange, or to have pieced together my true feelings from it.

Later, when I brought out the steaming bowl of hangover soup, he was slumped on the sofa, his gaze sharp and fixed on me.

I pushed the bowl toward him. "You're awake. Drink this. It'll help."

Hector merely glanced at it without moving. Instead, he suddenly asked, "Do you know why I never let you into the study?"

My lingering irritation was instantly overridden by curiosity. I shook my head.

He stood up and led me toward the study, refusing my offer of support.

Pushing open the study door, a massive painting came into view.

A girl of sixteen or seventeen stood in a field of flowers, her head bowed, eyes closed as she gently breathed in their scent. Only the faint curve of her profile was visible.

That was why when I first met Cecilia later on, I didn't recognize her immediately.

Hector leaned against the doorframe and lit a cigarette. "I've loved her since I was seventeen. It's been a full ten years now."

"If we hadn't fought back then, if she hadn't stormed off abroad in a fit of anger... the woman I married would have been her."

His tone was casual, yet every word pounded against my eardrums like a heavy hammer.

Before I could react, he laid it all bare. "I can't give you the response you want, Victoria Wilkerson. It's best not to harbor feelings you shouldn't have."

He continued in the detached tone of someone drafting a clause. "I'll add a rider to our contract. If you fail to manage your... sentiments, if you overstep and interfere in my affairs, it will constitute a breach. You'll forfeit all payment and be liable for damages."

The lights in the study were off, and the glow from the hallway spilled across the floor.

I watched my shadow frozen in place, suddenly remembering words I'd heard when I first entered the Ballard Manor.

Hector had been criticizing someone insatiable.

"They test the boundaries," he'd said, "their restless anticipation is always so... unpalatable."

That day, I had become what sickened him.

Hector had left at some point without me noticing.

I stood there until broad daylight, and only then did the suffocating weight in my chest finally lift.

Since then, I've kept a tight leash on myself, never revealing a trace of emotion I shouldn't have.

Calm, polite, and respectful—that became my only attitude toward him.

Over time, it seemed as if I really didn't love him anymore at all.

Pulling my thoughts back together, I found a clinic to patch up my leg, took the day off work, and went straight to the hospital to be with Mom.

Mom had a tumor growing in a delicate part of her brain. There were fewer than two doctors in the whole country capable of performing the surgery.

She kept nagging, "If we haven't secured a doctor yet, let me check out. It's a waste of money to stay here."

I popped a slice of pear into her mouth to stop her. "Absolutely not! Last time you tried to go to the third floor for a checkup by yourself, you fainted. Besides, I heard that Prof. Sawyer, who can perform this surgery, will be visiting here for consultations soon."

The attending physician promised that if the rumors were true, he'd get us an appointment immediately.

The thought that my mother's illness might soon be cured lightened my steps as I went to fetch lunch at noon.

But the head nurse stopped me.

"Victoria," she said, her voice lowered. "The VIP ward was freed up. I tried to reserve it for you immediately. But a new girl with powerful connections came in and took it for her mother."

The head nurse sighed. "I heard her boyfriend is a Ballard—a Major General with a lot of pull..."

Almost simultaneously, I caught a glimpse of a figure disappearing around the stairwell—the hem of the white dress was identical to the one Cecilia had worn this morning.

I withdrew my gaze and offered a reassuring smile. "Thank you anyway. The VIP room isn't that important. I just hope Mom can have her surgery as soon as possible."

When I got home that afternoon, I was surprised to find Hector sitting on the living room sofa.

It was unexpected. I thought he'd be with Cecilia at this hour.

I nodded slightly. "Major General Ballard."

I was about to head to my room after greeting him when he suddenly spoke up, "How's your knee?"

"I've applied medicine. It's fine," I replied.

Hector set down his coffee and checked his watch. "I need you to come to the Ballard Manor for dinner with me tonight. Are you free?"

According to our agreement, even if I wasn't free, I had to drop everything else.

I nodded. "Yes."

I couldn't dress too casually for the Ballard Manor. I selected a designer outfit, skillfully applied my makeup, put on jewelry, and spritzed some perfume, ensuring I looked exquisite and presentable from head to toe.

At the entrance of the manor, I took Hector's arm out of habit. Once inside, I obediently greeted every elder.

During dinner, Hector's mother suddenly asked, "Are you two trying for a baby yet?"

I was in the middle of sipping my soup and choked, coughing repeatedly.

Beside me, Hector handed over a napkin and patted my back naturally. "Victoria is still young."

But Hector's mother disagreed. "She's twenty-five. That's not young. You need to start taking this seriously, do you understand?"

I managed to swallow the soup and nodded. "I understand, Mom."

A torrential rainstorm hit that night, forcing Hector and me to stay over at the manor. One bed, two duvets.

We were used to it, so it wasn't awkward. I changed into my nightgown and came out of the bathroom.

As I sat on the sofa to apply ointment to my knee, Hector looked over. "I'm sorry I couldn't take you to the hospital myself today."

He furrowed his brows, seemingly trying to figure out how to explain his relationship with Cecilia to me.

I cut him off. "It's fine, Major General Ballard. The agreement doesn't state that you have any obligations toward me, so don't worry about it."

"Also, regarding you and Ms. Shepherd, I won't ask any questions. Rest assured, I'll continue to play my part for the next two months."

He looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Two months?"

It seemed he had forgotten when our agreement expired.

I reminded him. "Yes. The contract expires in two months. Then we can divorce and end this deal."

Hector set down his wine glass with an air of indifference. "You remember the date clearly enough."

He tossed out that lukewarm remark and headed for the bathroom.

Not long after, Mom's attending physician contacted me, saying he had applied for a surgery slot with Prof. Sawyer on my behalf.

For the two weeks following the news, I went to the hospital every day after work to keep Mom company.

That day, just as I stepped into the hospital elevator, the closing doors were pressed open again, and Hector walked in with Cecilia.

Cecilia had long forgotten me. Her gaze swept past me without pausing.

Hector's steps faltered slightly, but he didn't say a word.

As the elevator ascended, Cecilia clung to his arm, acting coquettish. "Thank you, my amazing boyfriend, for arranging everything for my mom. Now we just have to wait for the results."

"How should I thank you? How about I reluctantly give you a chance to treat me to dinner?"

I stared at the elevator buttons. A few seconds passed before I heard Hector ask in a low voice, "What do you want to eat?"

Cecilia chirped excitedly, "Let's go to your place. I want to eat your pasta!"

The elevator stopped at my floor. Until I walked out, I never heard Hector refuse. Looks like I can't go home tonight. I'll have to find a hotel.

After having dinner with Mom, I booked a room at a nearby hotel, took a shower, and went to sleep.

In a groggy haze, I answered a call from Hector, mumbling a confused, "Hello?"

"When are you coming home?"

His voice came through, "I've made dinner and I'm waiting for you."

I buried half my face into the pillow. "Aren't you supposed to be with Cecilia..."

"I was afraid I'd run into you two and couldn't explain it, so... I'm staying out for the night..."

Hector's voice dropped lower. "Stop overthinking. Send me the hotel address. I'm coming to pick you up."

I was so sleepy I felt irritable, rolling over in the blanket. "No, Hector Ballard. I'm already asleep. Don't bother me..."

The man fell silent for a few seconds, then his tone actually softened, carrying a hint of teasing. "So grumpy when you're woken up?"

I wasn't so afraid of him when I wasn't fully awake, so I clicked my tongue impatiently.

In my daze, I thought I heard a soft chuckle. "Alright, go back to sleep. I won't disturb you."

As soon as his voice faded, I fell back into a deep sleep.

The next day, I had almost forgotten the content of my call with Hector, only remembering that I had boldly called him by his full name.

When he called again, I thought he was calling to scold me, so my tone was extra cautious.

"Is something the matter, Major General Ballard?"

There was a long silence on the other end before a sound came through.

Hector's tone was indifferent. "Nothing much. I just forgot to ask you yesterday—what were you doing at the hospital?"

I said casually, "My mom is hospitalized, but it's not a big issue. She'll be discharged soon."

"If you need any help, contact my direct subordinate."

He hummed in acknowledgement.

I thanked him politely, not taking his offer to heart.

His job was sensitive. I couldn't really go and trouble people from the military.

The supplementary agreement made me habitually restrain myself. Asking him for help was crossing the line, and I couldn't do that.

The other side didn't hang up for a long time, so I couldn't help asking, "Major General Ballard, do you have anything else to say?"

The sound of fingertips tapping on a desk came through the receiver. This was his habit while on the phone.

He said nonchalantly, "I just wanted to ask what time you usually take your afternoon nap."

I froze. Before I could react, I heard him say, "I'll pick that time to call you in the future."

I didn't understand what he meant at all.

Picking the exact moment I'm asleep to call? Is this a new torture tactic for those in high places?

Prof. Sawyer was arriving at the hospital on the afternoon of the 17th.

His consultation window was only three hours, and we held the very last appointment slot.

Hector had gone out of town for an inspection four days ago and wouldn't be back for another week.

Whenever I ran into Cecilia during this time, she was always alone.

On the morning of the 17th, I bumped into Cecilia chatting at the nurse's station.

She was munching on an apple, looking perfectly at ease. "Only part of my mom's test results are back, but the Dean told me not to worry. Everything should be fine."

The nurse, busy organizing information sheets, looked up and smiled. "That's great to hear. Why don't you go for a walk somewhere else for now? We're still preparing for Prof. Sawyer's arrival this afternoon."

Cecilia ignored the suggestion and asked instead, "Professor? What professor?"

"He's a top expert in brain tumors. All the consultation slots are already booked."

The nurse explained, "But your mother's condition is different. She doesn't need to see the professor."

Cecilia took a bite of her apple, looking thoughtful. "Is that so..."

A trace of unease welled up in my heart.

Cecilia's mother wasn't in critical condition, nor did her case fall under Prof. Sawyer's specialty. She shouldn't have any reason to snatch a slot.

But reality often runs contrary to hope.

At two in the afternoon, the attending physician called me out of the ward and said gravely, "The slot is gone."

Those words hit me like a sledgehammer, causing instant ringing in my ears and nearly making me faint.

"It was taken by Major General Ballard's girlfriend. She has priority as a military family member."

The doctor furrowed his brows. "I told her I could handle her mother's condition myself, but she wouldn't listen. She insisted that seeing the professor would be safer."

I leaned against the wall, barely managing to stay on my feet.

"Can't we add just one more slot?"

"There's no time. Prof. Sawyer has to fly abroad for a seminar at five."

I clenched my hands, digging my nails into my palms to keep my composure, and immediately took out my phone to call Hector.

But just like always, my calls never reached his phone.

There was only the cold, repetitive busy signal.

With no time to hesitate, I took a taxi home to grab my marriage certificate with Hector, arriving back at the hospital two hours later.

The attending physician took me to the Dean's office.

Before I could say a word, the Dean waved his hand dismissively. "Stop trying. It's useless. You can't compete with anyone for the remaining slots."

I pushed the marriage certificate in front of him, gasping for breath. "I am Hector's wife. You can check if this marriage certificate is a forgery."

"I'm not here to steal anyone else's slot. I just want to take back the one that originally belonged to me."

I finally got the slot back. Only after scheduling the surgery time with Prof. Sawyer did my suspended heart finally settle.

I asked the doctor and the Dean to keep my identity a secret, but I couldn't withstand Cecilia's relentless pestering.

As I left the hospital that evening, she suddenly blocked my path.

She stared at me for a long time, then narrowed her eyes and smiled. "I remember now. Aren't you the girl I bumped into that day? No wonder Hector was so concerned about your blood clotting disorder."

"If you hadn't stolen my slot, I wouldn't have done this."

I lowered my eyes. "My relationship with him isn't what you think. I can explain."

She had no patience to listen, simply holding out her hand toward me.

"I just want to see the marriage certificate." Her voice carried a threat. "Try me. I'll make such a scene at the hospital that your mother won't get a moment's peace, let alone have her surgery."

I had no choice but to show her the marriage certificate.

Cecilia maintained her smile the entire time. She nodded, handed it back to me, and immediately dialed Hector's number.

The call connected quickly. Her eyes reddened, and fixing her gaze on me, she spoke into the phone. "Hector, you have a wife."

A moment later, Hector's voice came through.

"Who told you that?"

"How could you humiliate me like this?" Cecilia's voice trembled with tears. "I want to break up."

She hung up immediately and turned to leave.

I pursed my lips tightly. I had taken just one step to chase after her when she said, without looking back. "You'd better not follow me."

"Enabling your husband's affair? You're truly pathetic.

Don't make me lay hands on you right here at the hospital entrance."

Afterward, I called Hector over a dozen times, but every call was rejected. I sent messages explaining the situation, but got no response.

He completed his mission and returned to the country on the 20th, yet he didn't come back to the villa until the 25th.

During those five days in between, he had obviously gone to comfort Cecilia.

Just the night before, I had seen Cecilia's local status update on social media.

She was lying in a hospital bed, while Hector sat beside her, picking bones out of her chicken soup.

The caption read: "The one who isn't loved is the real mistress."

Today, he finally made time to settle the score with me.

I braced myself for his wrath, but Hector didn't even spare me a glance.

He simply tossed his coat aside and sat on the sofa to read through some documents.

Soon, a phone call came in.

His tone was calm, yet it carried the oppressive weight of someone long in power, making the atmosphere exceptionally heavy.

"Do you remember what I instructed you to do before I left?"

On the other end of the line was the dedicated bodyguard Hector had hired for Cecilia.

"You asked me to take good care of Ms. Shepherd."

Hector hummed in acknowledgement. "So, you failed in your duty."

I could faintly hear the voice on the other end whispering, "I'm sorry, Mr. Ballard..."

"You're fired." Hector announced flatly.

I watched this scene in disbelief and rushed in front of him. "Major General Ballard, this has nothing to do with her! I breached the contract on my own. Don't drag an innocent person into this."

Only then did Hector seem to notice my existence.

He shifted his gaze to me and repeated, "Drag an innocent person into this?"

He paused. "If you had considered that before revealing our marriage, perhaps none of this would have happened."

"That's not it!" I retorted urgently. "It's because my mom's consultation slot was stolen by Cecilia. The doctor said her condition couldn't be delayed any longer, and the only person in the country who could perform this surgery is..."

He interrupted me unhurriedly. "Does your mother have anything to do with me?"

Hector's words were like an ice-tempered blade, piercing precisely into the softest part of my heart.

I froze in place, looking at the undisguised indifference in his eyes.

Suddenly, I felt that every moment of the past three years was just an absurd joke.

I took a deep breath, suppressing the lump in my throat, and said word by word, "Yes, my mother has nothing to do with you. So from now on, I have nothing to do with you either."

After saying that, I turned and walked away without a shred of hesitation.

Back in the room, I packed my luggage as fast as I could.

To make it easier to take care of my mom, I had already moved my daily essentials to a rental apartment near the hospital.

Only some insignificant items were left in the villa, so it took just a few minutes to pack everything up.

When I walked out of the room pulling my suitcase, Hector was still sitting on the sofa, as if the conversation just now had never happened.

I didn't look at him again and walked straight toward the door.

"Where are you going?" He finally spoke, his voice holding a trace of barely perceptible tension.

"Leaving this place." I didn't stop walking. "Since the agreement has expired, there's no need for me to stay here anymore."

I opened the door, and the cold wind rushed in, making me shiver but also clearing my head.

I didn't look back.

I walked out resolutely, leaving the villa that held three years of my joy and sorrow far behind.